the Messenger, Heir of the Corvusons
by JustWriter2
Summary: Kreacher discovers that Hermione's life-line is tied to him. Since HouseElves may only serve 1 family at a time, he must cause a marriage bond to form between her & his master or die. That's not much of a problem though if you're a Guardian of Time. SBxHG
1. Chapter 1: LifeLines

Disclaimer: I own the plot and the way people longterm timetravel in this story. I also own the theory of Life-Lines and their connection to House-elves. I do not own anything that you recognize from cannon, but I do own the OOC character's attitudes and how they interact with one another. Since Kreacher and Walburga Black did not speak very much in cannon and I haven't read the 6th and 7th books, I will do my best to keep the cannon details correct unless Hermione's presence merrits the change.

"**the Messenger, Heir of the Corvusons**_**"**_

by: JustWriter

**Chapter 1: Life-Lines**

Kreacher had woken the day before Christmas feeling more powerful. Now when he looked over his form, he saw four life-lines attached to where, had he been human his navel would have been, instead of three life-lines. The three that had been attached to him for many years were nearly the same as the night previous. One belonged to his mistress Bella. It was silver and aqua, in rough, unchecked patterns that had the blackness of Dark magic and the yellow-orange of the Imperius Curse surrounding it. Another was his Mistress Cissy's, which also held the colors aqua and silver. Yet the pattern of Cissy's was more organized and was surrounded by evidence of the glamour spells that she used every day without preamble.

The third life-line was his Master's, which held the colors gold and aqua. The pattern was almost as wild as his Mistress Bella's and was surrounded by patches of a color that he knew to symbolize animigi mastery and bunches of sorrow, depression, and regret in larger portions surrounded the rest of the life-line.

The new life-line was bronze and royal blue and was coming from the direction of where he knew Hogwarts to be. Late in the night on Christmas Eve, the new line shook and he saw what had been surrounded with contentment earlier, had been flooded with extreme amounts of worry and anxiety. Then, the line grew warmer and he knew that whoever was on the other end of it was now in Number 12 Grimauld Place. And now, here he was contemplating how he could have bonded with _her_ when he knew that she was supposed to be filth.

She sniffled and wiped the warm, salted water from her face. She hadn't been able to sleep. After feigning sleep for a while, waiting for Ginny to be asleep, she had let go of the reins she had, had on her emotions. Through her bleary eyes, she saw a familiar grey form. She recognized it, or rather him. "Hello Kreacher," she addressed him. She really didn't know what else to say to him. He was just so completely different from her; too far away to understand. She curled her legs in front of her and wrapped her arms around them.

Kreacher stared at her in contemplation and he asked, "Why is miss upset?" She glanced up in confusion and then questioned him saying, "Um; why do you want to know Kreacher? I thought you didn't care about mudbloods," she said solemnly. There! That's exactly what he'd been wondering. She obviously hadn't consciously performed any spells to make him loyal to her. It was something else. It definitely wasn't because she'd been nice to him.

"Kreacher doesn't know why he is concerned," he said, being honest with her for some strange reason that he couldn't comprehend. She again sniffled and glanced toward him through her water laden eyelashes. "I don't want Harry to die. He doesn't deserve to," she confided, her voice cracking on the appropriate words.

The longer he stared at her; he began to realize that she seemed just a bit familiar. But no; it couldn't be that could it? There was nobody left from his previous family. They'd only produced squibs that had been in his previous mistress' age group. A family can only keep house elves bound to them if at least one member has a certain amount of magic in them, so his dear mistress' godmother gave him, along with some other house elves to Walburga Black as a wedding gift.

Realization hit him and he entered missus Granger's personal space. She normally would have jumped to her own defense, but she didn't feel threatened by him in the least. His presence was comforting, almost like her mother's. How strange; she'd never felt that way around him before, just a little apprehensive. What had changed?

According to the ancient laws and magic that governed the race of elves, one elf may not be loyal to more than one family. If he didn't act within a week's time, he would die. Since he suspected that his new mistress was of his first family, he had to remain loyal to her above all others. But the only way he would be able to do so, was if his master and other mistresses either released him, they died suddenly, or if… but that would only work if he was correct. He needed to confirm his suspicions first. "May Kreacher test miss?"

She looked at him again and felt confusion and trepidation. "For what and how Kreacher?" she asked, thankful that she had some of her wits about her in this confusing circumstance.

He acknowledged her caution. It was good for him that she didn't trust blindly. "Kreacher wants to scan your magical core. There are no side effects." She acquiesced with a nod. Kreacher's hand went towards her navel and he made her core become temporarily visible. His eyes were immediately drawn to the dominant colors, bronze and blue, and the heritage was now right there in front of him. "Kreacher was right. You are not filth."

She looked up in confusion. "What do you mean? I've grown up as a muggle. My parents have grown up as muggles. They never received letters for magical schooling, ever."

"Your parents and their parents must have all been squibs. Kreacher just checked. Magical cores never lie."

"So, all four of my grandparents grew up in wizarding homes?" she asked in disbelief. Kreacher nodded. She believed him. She should have been skeptical but she somehow knew that he was telling the truth. Then her calculating mind took over once mare and she asked, "So I'm pureblood, but still by definition a muggleborn?"

Kreacher nodded once more. He seemed to be doing that since the beginning of the conversation. "Muggleborn and Mudblood filth are often associated with one another, but they are in fact, as they appear, two separate words, which means two separate meanings. Mudblood simply means outsider blood, while muggleborn means raised like a muggle. In fact, a French witch who is considered pureblood by her own community could actually be considered a mudblood in Britain. But it's really been such a long time since they were considered such in British Pureblood society. Kreacher believes this was why the Dark Lord did not recruit foreign wizards in the first war."

"First War? Kreacher, what do you mean? There hasn't been a second war," Hermione protested while a _yet_ hung in the air.

"Kreacher knows this. But Kreacher knows that if events continue their current course, there will be a second, if not more wars; and young Harry Potter, as well as many others will die in the process. Kreacher sees it clearly that the Dark Lord has a high chance of winning. Harry Potter has less chance, and in those variations, the British Wizarding population has an even smaller chance of replenishing itself, even with the mudblood filth."

"Oh," she uttered solemnly. Kreacher had never _really_ spoken to her before. By all rights, she should have stopped attempting to do so with him after he basically shunned her from the start; but something deep inside her had convinced her otherwise.

Then something occurred to her. "Kreacher, is Granger my real name?" she asked logically and apprehensively. She was afraid to hear the answer, but logically knew that Granger had only been seen once in all of her studies in the Wizarding World; about three hundred years prior, someone by the name of Herbert Bennet-Granger had developed a noteworthy mastery in potions. It was not a Wizarding name.

"No miss, you are not a Granger. The Squibs must have renamed themselves," Kreacher replied. No, she was a Corvuson, and he'd attempt the third solution, marriage bonding, in order to ensure that he would be able to serve all of the life-lines attached to him. After she'd calmed enough, he put her to sleep with a simple spell.

Fogging into the future, slightly how a human would divine prophecies, he watched what would happen if he bonded the master and his new mistress to one another in this time. It didn't look promising. It appeared that due to his master's overexposure to dementors, he was infertile. So he looked again to see what would happen if he brought his new mistress back just before the attack on the Potters. It was the same outcome as the first, only his master would be disowned and he'd lose his chance to bond them. He looked again to see what would happen if he deposited her in his master's 5th year. Again, it didn't work; only this time because Sirius would disappoint her with his behavior.

After reviewing millions of possibilities, he settled on one; but first he'd have to consult with his former mistress Walburga's impression.


	2. Chapter 2: Black Marble

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything written by J. K. Rowling. I do however own the different personalities of the characters that I changed within reason and I own the concept of sending Hermione back to be molded by Walburga into the perfect future Mrs. Black.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the late update. My monitor on my other comp. stopped working and I hadn't e-mailed the chapter that I'd already written or any of my research to myself, so I had to write the second chapter again, which is completely different from the first draft and I'm not as satisfied with it. I had to post it though. I didn't want to leave you guys hanging any longer.

This chapter may not make as much sense, but I made changes so that it'd better line up with canon. I also did my best not to overly elaborate on her morning routine and clothing choice. I hate it when authors do that, adding with this on top of that. Those absurd descriptions almost always draw away from the story.

**Chapter 2: Black Marble**

Hermione woke the next morning from her spell and tear-induced slumber to Ginny shaking her shoulder. "Come on Hermione. We're going to visit Dad at St. Mungos today. We need to go down and eat breakfast before Mum comes and drags us out of bed."

Hermione, immediately awake from the get go replied, "Alright Ginny, just let me get presentable first." Ginny nodded and then darted out of the room and then her thundering footsteps indicated that Ginny was going down to the ground floor and into the kitchen.

Hermione gathered her Christmas clothes, which include the bare necessities (undergarments), red and white striped socks, a white, long-sleeved shirt, with a red, lacy, short-sleeved overshirt, and a pair of jeans. Then she retrieved her wand, her hairbrush, and her other toiletries from her trunk and then she headed to the bathing room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

The extravagance of the obviously magically expanded room always struck her in an odd way. She wasn't amazed, disgusted, miffed, or admiring of it at all. It felt comfortable even though it was much nicer than the Prefects' Bathroom at Hogwarts.

Unlike the other rooms in the mansion, the bathroom had nothing more than scum to remove from its belly. There'd been no dark objects inside it whatsoever, save for the extremely dark in color marble; or was it rare ebony?

As she soaked in the black tub that could comfortably fit six people, she pondered her parents' and her grandparents' reaction when she'd requested to stay with her friends over the holidays, especially after they, including her, had already made plans. They'd been extremely displeased, even though they'd understood after she told them about Harry's nightmare.

Neville had told her about why Ron and Harry had disappeared. Because he'd run off to find Professor McGonagall, Dean and Seamus had told him that Harry had been screaming about Mr. Weasley being in danger. She'd worried the whole way to London, even though Luna had tried to distract her.

She wondered why her grandparents had seemed excessively upset. Had they planned on telling her the answer to the note/puzzle that they'd sent her during the summer?

A knock suddenly sounded on the door and Ginny called through it, "Hermione? You almost done?"

"I'll be down in a moment," Hermione swiftly replied. Set on keeping her promise, she quickly finished washing and drained the tub. She quickly dressed and then she approached the mirror that was charmed to defog itself. She squeezed a huge glop of Sleekeezy onto her hairbrush and brushed her hair as quickly as she could in sections, starting from the bottom and then going up. Halfway through, she got another glop about the same size as the first.

When finished, she gathered her things and then released the advanced locking charm from the door. Then she headed to her room, deposited her things and then went downstairs to the kitchen to eat breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3: a Strikingly Long Letter

**Chapter 3: a Strikingly Long Letter**

On her way down the stairs she couldn't help but gawk at Sirius' decorations. Sure he was delighted to have Harry at Grimmauld for the holidays but did that mean that he had to desecrate the remains of loyal house elves; Santa Claus hats honestly?

Mrs. Weasley was cooking breakfast in the kitchen and others were arriving there from bed. Remus was already up and about of course and members of the Order were constantly coming in and out of the front door on business. In the middle of the rushed breakfast at the Fidelus covered, Number 12 Grimmauld Place a pop occurred and everyone was startled when they saw the Black family's only house elf standing on the dining table, holding out a letter to the only muggleborn in the room.

Everyone was staring transfixed until Hermione noticed. "Oh," she uttered softly, "Good morning Kreacher. Is that for me?" Hermione didn't jump in place or even bite back a scream. Even if she was surprised, she _still_ didn't feel threatened by him. However, everyone else was now staring at her and Kreacher; even Sirius was startled with his behavior. Ron in particular had his mouth hanging open with mushy, half chewed food residing inside.

"Yes miss," he replied as he recalled what happened after he put her to bed last night.

**:Flashback:**

Kreacher came beneath his former mistress' painting and tugged on the finely worn edge on the bottom of the curtain to signal that he had information for her. Her curtains slid open in quick succession and then she looked down towards the spot that she knew Kreacher to always be when he came to her. "Password?" she called regally, to ensure that this House Elf was who he appeared to be.

"_Toujours Pur_," he uttered as quietly as possible.

"What news?" she inquired.

"Mistress, I have found Lady Corvuson."

"My godmother's heir?"

Kreacher nodded, "Her great-granddaughter mistress."

"Ah; Kreacher," she said wistfully, "do you know what this means?"

"Yes mistress, the contract must be fulfilled. But Kreacher sees into the future and Master will be lost to us through a great black arch!" Walburga looked horrified. "But do not despair mistress; we can make this work. I have reviewed millions of alternate realities and have settled on one. I need your advice on how to approach you with the girl, who is a muggleborn pureblood."

"She has no," she carefully phrased, "filthy blood?"

"Kreacher would never bring it up with mistress otherwise. Kreacher found that Lady Corvuson has four squib grandparents. Kreacher theorizes that the squibs were all friends as children and arranged to have their progeny marry so that they would have a legitimate heir in the future. Although Kreacher is puzzled as to why they changed their name to a considerably more muggle one."

The shadow of his former mistress agonized over the fact that she would be unable to see her son have a family; the past version of herself was much more foolish. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, ordering Kreacher to be so rude and unfair to Sirius so that he'd develop the cunning that she knew was in there somewhere, but it had only served to push him away from his family loyalties. Shaking off the guilt laden, bitter thoughts she inquired, "At what time do you plan to place her?"

"Just after master Sirius begins his second year, mistress. I plan to rewind time on Mistress' body to age ten so you'll have an entire year with Lady Corvuson to tie up lose ends before she starts Hogwarts, and she'll retain all of her knowledge and magical potential from now. She'd be taking her OWLs at the end of her current year now," Kreacher told her.

"Good," she uttered. "That's just enough time to stop myself from giving up on Sirius, even if it was well and truly deserved. It was never because he was in Gryffindor..." she trailed off in an unpracticed and sorrowful manner.

After the long pause she stated, "When you go back," she said firmly, "tell my other self to not in any way, support the Dark Lord Voldemort and to not let either of my sons become his servants. If my other self asks why, then state quite clearly that, that madman's efforts will destroy the entire British Wizarding population and that even his loyal pureblood followers will not be exempt from his destruction and extermination."

Kreacher nodded, remembering his master Regulus and his mistress Andromeda. He'd lost them both, the latter for marrying a mudblood, and the first had been murdered by Lord Voldemort. Then Kreacher recalled the locket that his master Regulus asked be destroyed. It had recently been smuggled out of the house by that shady, indiscreet, and smelly fellow and been sold, but Kreacher hadn't been fooled and had smuggled it back so that he could keep a better eye on it.

"What does Kreacher tell Mistress Black about Andromeda Tonks?"

Walburga's shadow drew in a nonexistent breath and she began to pace within the confines of her painting. "Tell her it would be wise to keep her niece close.

"So Mistress will be neutral?" Kreacher asked tentatively.

"Publicly yes, but I intend to have my other self more closely ally herself with the side of the," she paused and then cynically added, "light. This of course doesn't mean that I am siding with that fool Dumbledore." She paused for a moment, pondering and then she inquired, "Now, who is the current Lady Corvuson; have I seen her?"

"Hermione Granger, Mistress," he replied.

She regally raised her right eyebrow and asked, "The scroll-pourer?"

Kreacher nodded firmly and then added his input, "Kreacher hears that they expect Lady Corvuson to receive all O's on her OWLs, and O's and EE's if she were to take her NEWTs at the same time without studying."

Walburga's shadow nodded in approval and then said, "If you believe that she can handle him, you must convince her before you attempt this that it is necessary. Also inform her of the marriage contract and her responsibilities as heir of her line. If she still refuses, use even more persuasive arguments and please do your best to not offend her by bringing it up too often; I'm quite sure that she'll eventually concede."

Kreacher bowed formally and quoted from the marriage contract, "May the blood of these two families flow in harmony."

"Kreacher please ensure that she learns the Mind Arts before she departs this decade; I do not want the weight of the future to weigh heavily on anyone." The curtains of her painting slid shut with hardly any noise and Kreacher popped over to his small space in Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

**:End Flashback:**

She studied the envelope held together with a magically enhanced blood seal. It was from her grandparents and the seal indicated that it was urgent so Hermione grabbed a roll and an apple and excused herself from the kitchen.

As she opened it she realized that it was a strikingly long letter.

_Dearest Hermione Jayne,_

_Your father and mother informed us of the possible emergency. Please let us know how Septimus' youngest heir is doing._

Idly wondering whom Septimus was, she continued.

_Since you are not here, we must discuss some things with you that we would have rather avoided doing in this manner; the first of which is that you are a pureblooded witch._

Hermione drew in a sharp gasp. How..?

_We are of a line that if it were found out which, then others would seek to control or destroy you as Dumbledore not so subtlety does with your dear friend Harry._

Hermione's jaw dropped enough that if there was a Cornish Pixie around it would have reached inside her mouth and yanked her tongue.

_There are many other things that you must know about, one of which is unfortunately a marriage contract made long ago._

'What! A _**marriage**_ contract?'

_Your great-grandmother Cordelia Harris was rather good friends with Irma Crabbe, later Black, and so became the godmother of Irma's children. In Wizarding Britain the strongest alliance that you can make with your friends is to give them legal guardianship of your children should you die. The godfather would inherit them first and then the godmother, and then the next closest blood relative of the father of the children and so on. Cordelia and Irma decided to ally themselves much more closely however. They wished for their descendants to keep a close relationship; and what is closer than matrimony?_

_The terms of the arranged marriage are that you will be informed of this when you reach the age of 16 years old;_

'What? I'm not…'

_which you have due to the use of a ministry approved timeturner,_

'Oh that explains it.'

_you will be given the chance to foist the duty onto another magical, pureblooded descendant of Cordelia's;_

'Oh good…'

_which could be your own child,_

'I couldn't leave the responsibility to one of my children. Ah well I guess that I'll be going through with it then.'

_that you must marry one of Irma's legitimate, male descendants that is unattached and carries the name Black,_

'Black… but that means… Oh Merlin…'

_unless there are none of the name Black left in which case you must marry merely one of her legitimate, male, pureblooded descendants._

'Is grandfather kidding, of _**course**_ there's a Black left. That doesn't seem to be much of a provision.'

_First in line at the moment is Lord Sirius Black. Should he die the next possible heir of the contract would be young Mister Draco Malfoy._

Hermione choked on air. 'Malfoy! That arrogant…'

_Thankfully the insane Bartemis Crouch Jr. and his father are both dead or it would be one of them whom were next on the list; I never liked those men. A cousin of your friend Mr. Neville Longbottom would have been next, only the poor boy perished in a Death Eater attack. After those I suppose Harry Potter could be considered a candidate as well._

'Harry? That's WORSE than Malfoy or the Crouches! He's not even a pureblood!'

_He may not be Sirius' natural son, but he is considered his lawful son. I know what you're thinking, he _is_ pureblooded._

Hermione felt as if she were going into shock. Harry a pureblood?

_We knew Lily's and Petunia's parents who had chosen to hide from the Wizarding World and re-introduce themselves as a muggle line rather than face the repercussions and implications of their heritage. We found it rather amusing that the heiress of Slytherin managed to be married to the heir of Gryffindor._

The wizarding world's beloved Lily Potter was the heir of Slytherin? 'Oh God… I think I'm having a horrible dream…'

_Of course the Evans' hiding themselves backfired and they chose not to reveal themselves to young Harry for fear of him rejecting them._

Well that made sense, but Harry would want to know about his living grandparents; as soon as she could she would tell Harry of their existence.

_I suppose that you're thinking of telling him of his heritage now, aren't you? You won't be able to. There's been a spell put in place to keep him from finding out._

Okay then, perhaps NOT.

_We suppose that's best because after all, he is fighting the man that _claims_ to be whom he really is. That false heir is nothing more than Lord Gaunt, or rather Tom Marvolo Riddle._

How on Earth did her grandfather _know_ all of this?

_Now to the matter of us, we had no choice but to leave the Wizarding World for we are squibs. We helped your other grandparents and Lily's and Petunia's parents to adjust to the Muggle World. A shame that Petunia was a squib as well, first in her line in probably a thousand years poor thing, which reminds us; since Dudley Dursley is of Petunia and since he is older, he may yet be Lord Slytherin. If he speaks what serpents call the noble tongue, then Lord Potter is only second in line._

'Lord Slytherin? Harry's muggle cousin?'

_Lord Potter inherits the titles in order of most importance, Lord Peverell, Lord Gryffindor, possibly Lord Slytherin, and Lord Potter._

Well that was an interesting fact; why would Peverell be more important than the Lordships of the Hogwarts founders?

_If you marry Sirius and he dies with no heirs then you are to remarry another descendant of Irma's and Harry will inherit the title Lord Black. Draco Malfoy is the only other choice unfortunately. Please take care to be polite to the young man; he isn't all bad, his manners could take some curbing._

Well _that_ was the understatement of the year.

_When you are married the finances will be up to you, as is every pureblood wife's duty. Another part of that duty is keeping your husband in line. Most muggleborns think that the wives of purebloods are submissive; not so if the wife is much more cunning than her husband. The woman runs the house, the man is the celebrity; anything he says reflects on the wife and her control of him._

Shock once more filled Hermione. _That's_ how pureblood houses were run?

_To claim your right to your bethrothed you must kneel before him, utter, '_Ego vindicatum meus posterus maritus_,' and then kiss his hand. Once you kiss his hand and your main inherited crest appears on his hand he must accept you as a candidate for marriage. If he is bethrothed to someone else as well then the matter is taken before his family head. If he is already married or the parents choose another legally binding marriage candidate, then you are relieved of the contract and any pureblooded witch descended from you seeing as you are our only heir, will be the next candidate._

Hermione had looked for pureblood marriage rituals in all of the materials in Hogwarts once, just in case she ever needed to know but the closest description to this description that she'd ever seen had been in a magical romance novel written by Marta Lockhart, the younger sister of Gilderoy Lockhart himself. Did Marta intend to marry some rich Lord?

_More on your friend Harry, only a parselmouth may be Head of the Slytherin family. That may be why Lord Gaunt believes that only he is Lord Slytherin, but I assure you that he is the absolute last in line. That Ginevra Weasley is more of an heir than he. I doubt that he realized that he made another eligible heir when he gave her the parselspeak ability. She is of course one because of her mother, a Prewett. The Prewetts are very closely related to the true Slytherin line, which ought to make Ginevra Weasley and Harry Potter each others' cousin twice removed. Molly's paternal grandfather married Elia Prewett née Evans married the Lord Prewett of the time._

_I am sure that you are wondering how all of this pertains to you. We bore your father and he bore you in order to ensure that our heir would be able to fulfill the marriage contract. Because we had a second generation squib son we were unable to fulfill it. Since you are a magical pureblooded descendant and there is an unmarried pureblooded male by the name Black we are now in a position to restore our families to our Wizengamit Titles to working order. We've been unheard for too long; Wizarding Britain is going to pieces after being terrorized by two Dark Lords, one of which will be returning soon._

Squib families that didn't have a magical representative couldn't vote on matters of the law; that was an interesting fact that Hermione recalled reading in a British Magical Law book once. Many families that were reintroduced into the British Wizarding World never realized that they had a say in the courts because they never knew that they were related to those seemingly extinct families. Usually one every couple hundred years had enough sense to get a heritage test and find out their rights from there. In Magical Austro-Germany it was mandatory to get a heritage test for every magical being there, a leftover policy from the partnership of Gellert Grindelwald and Adolf Hitler; there everybody found out their rights from the getgo and it was easier for the politicians to pluck persons with powerful inheritances from obscurity and manipulate them until they were of no more use. She'd read about that in an Austro-German Magical Law book that Victor Krum had sent her.

_It is of course your choice to go through with this marriage or not; we will not force you. However you will from the moment that you turn 16 and onward will be forced to take up your real name. You are and shall always be, 'Lady Hermione Jayne Scamander Bones Xandaire Corvuson, Heiress of Ravenclaw, Heiress of Xandaire.' My wife was a Bones squib before we wed so you are first cousins with your classmate Susan Bones through her father, and your other grandmother is the aunt of soon-to-be Lord Rolf Scamander. You are not first in these lines so only under extreme circumstances will you receive these titles._

_Now to something else of importance, do not trust Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. He has been manipulating young Lord Peverell, Harry. If Lord Dumbledore were to find out your connection to Ravenclaw, through my ancestors, then we would rather not contemplate what he'd do to you and those that you care for, for his ideal or what he calls, 'the Greater Good.'_

_Do not worry about this getting out though if you lose the letter. Only you or someone of our blood may read it. But please try to hold your tongue on these important matters. _

_Last of all, find Andromeda Tonks or her sister Narcissa Malfoy; they are duty-bound to teach you the Mind Arts, occlumency and legilimency._

_Your grandfather and your Family Head,_

_James Alexander Corvuson, Squib_

Hermione glanced up from the startling sheaf of paper sent by her paternal grandfather. If what he said was true then her name and status had already changed in the Ministry records. Then suddenly she realized that she had been staring at the face of the woman whom had started this contract. There Irma Black née Crabbe was on the wall. Hermione approached and then began to study the magically painted woman whom stared right back at her.

She decided to introduce herself. "Hello Irma Black?" she addressed the woman. "I just received a letter from my grandfather and it said a lot of strange things." The woman nodded and waited patiently. "He said that he's really a squib and so are all of my grandparents, that my real name isn't really Hermione Jean Granger. He said that you and my great-grandmother Cordelia were great friends and that you'd arranged a marriage contract between your descendants and hers."

The woman smiled excitedly and tried to speak, but realized once more that there was a silencing spell on this her painting and her face turned solemn. She looked pleadingly at Hermione and even though Hermione really knew that she shouldn't use magic, she pulled out her wand and finite'ed the exterior spell. She wasn't concerned that Irma would disappear because magical paintings were made using enchantments, not wands and the rituals usually were only undone by other enchantment rituals; unlike magical photos that were made by applying a potion to muggle photographs.

Irma smiled, "Thank you dear. That man! He silencio'ed all of us. I'm lucky that he missed putting a sound barrier around my face. Most of the others can't hear what you're saying."

"What man?" Hermione enquired.

"Oh that strange fellow with the false eye; he didn't even introduce himself, just waved his wand and that was it! Oh sorry dear, I've been in terrible need of a rant after that episode. Are you really Cordelia's descendant?" Hermione nodded. Irma looked at her more carefully, "Ah! Now I see it! You have her eyes!"

Hermione then asked, "Why aren't the paintings in the hallway silencio'ed?"

"Oh, dear the house elf can only do so much magic, and since I'm not a Black by blood I'm not featured in there," Irma answered jovially. "In fact, my other paintings are outside of this home; I'm only here when I can sense interesting things happening here."

"My friends and I will be going to visit Arthur Weasley at St. Mungo's in a bit. Are you there or in the Ministry?" Hermione asked.

"Cedrella's youngest? Oh I do hope he'll be alright," Irma expressed. "He's my nephew-in-law once removed," she explained when Hermione looked confused, "and Cedrella was such a dear. Her eldest Bilius often came over to visit my son Alphard during the summers."

"You don't seem to care much about blood affiliations," Hermione commented cautiously.

Irma raised an indignant eyebrow, "Oh you're referring to how the Blacks must be a dark family, right? Wrong actually; the Blacks have been a neutral family for generations, occasionally siding one way or the other depending on what they believed to be right. My son Cygnus believed his friend Bartemus Crouch and his future wife, that horrid Druella, that purebloods are superior to muggles and should rule them. I worry for my granddaughters' safety every day."

"If you loved Alphard then why was he disowned?" Hermione asked.

Irma's expression became pained. "Ah well, it was discovered that he'd impregnated a girl who wasn't his betrothed. He uh… I know that it was a mistake but he should have used protection!"

Hermione's face reddened. "Oh."

"You haven't had sex yet dear; have you?" Irma asked in a sudden panic.

"No!" Hermione understood the implications; if she were to have an illegitimate child than Cordelia's line would be broken, then the contract would never be fulfilled. Irma immediately appeared relieved. Hermione briefly wondered what would happen if the contract never was fulfilled; was there some sort of debilitating consequence?

"So what do you think of Lord Black dear; growing up he seemed to be quite the catch. I remembered when he visited the manor house in Surrey as a child. I gave him a magical bracelet to protect him if he were ever to encounter dementors, although I'm not sure how it held up from long exposure during his imprisonment. My dear Pollux had told me that blood-born Blacks have very bad reactions to dementors you see; I thought it a fitting present."

Hermione stared at Irma in disbelief; if this woman hadn't… Hermione would have had to marry a madman. "Thank you…" then… "Wait a minute, you said Blacks have bad reactions to dementors?" Irma nodded. "Does that mean that Harry's related to Sirius?"

"Oh yes dear, Harry is my Pollux's sister Dorea's grandson."

Hermione grinned. "Do you think that you could teach me how to make a bracelet like that?"

Irma frowned, "Well I don't know dear the enchantments are quite complex and they don't teach any sort of enchanment in Hogwarts anymore. Bloody Ministry," Irma cursed. "Honestly considering enchantment rituals to be Dark Arts! Bloody Albus Dumbledore! If he weren't Supreme Mugwump…" Hermione stared in shock. "Oh yes dear they consider protective enchantments against their foul prison guards to be illegal."

"Is that why I haven't been able to find much on enchantments?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Well dear there's the basics on them in the family Library here. Considered Dark material it is, although if you tell Sirius that you're researching how to protect Harry from dementors I doubt that he'll stop you," Irma said with a wink. Then with a conspiring glance she asked, "Dear would you mind terribly if you could arrange to mark your claim on him in here where the whole family can witness it? I know that they can't hear or say a thing but they will certainly recognize the betrothal acknowledgement ceremony."

Hermione suddenly looked embarrassed. They expected her to marry _him_? He was what, eighteen years older than her? "Um I don't know if I… he's so much older than me!" she protested.

Irma looked sad. "I'll have to wait? Or are you waiting for Sirius to die so that you can marry my great-grandson?"

Hermione looked insulted, "Me and Malfoy? Not in a million years thank you very much. He's a right, bigoted prat like his father."

Irma began to look like she was going to cry. "I tried my best to raise Cygnus right, even connect with his children but Bella became a Dark Magic fanatic and Cissy hasn't been very able to control that husband of hers." She sniffled, "At least," sniffle, "Andromeda married a respectable young man, and had a beautiful baby girl!" Irma was near sobbing.

"I'm sorry Irma… but I've just turned sixteen and the contract did say I could pass the burden onto my children," Hermione answered timidly.

Irma indelicately blew her nose into a painted handkerchief. "I know dear but if it's not fulfilled within four generations then… and Sirius isn't as appealing to women as he used to be so he might not even have children! Draco is fourth generation and do you really want one of your children to marry _him_?"

Hermione stared at Irma, once again speechless. That _would_ be weird. Why hadn't her grandfather mentioned this stipulation? Had he not wanted to pressure her?

Suddenly the door to creaked open and Hermione tried to not look conspicuous. She blinked and saw Sirius peeking into the parlor. "Oh Hermione there you are! Harry and the Wealseys are about to leave for Saint Mungo's. You'd better leave if you're going to see Arthur."

"Yes, I'm going Mr. Black. I'm to give him my grandparents' regards for getting better," she answered carefully. She busied herself picking up the various pages of the letter which she'd received and stuffed them carefully back into the heavy envelope. She didn't want to look at him; did he even know? She chanced a glance and saw that he was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. "Yes Mr. Black what is it?" she asked slightly irritated.

He looked sheepish and a little uncomfortable, "Um nothing. It's just you've never called me that before is all." Hermione couldn't help but be a little put off by his puppy dog pout.

"What would you rather I call you then? Lord Black?" he winced.

"Um no that doesn't sound right either," he lamely answered. Irma seemed to be entertained by the spectacle, this young girl was making him uncomfortable just like Cordelia had made Alexander Harris uncomfortable. Hermione may not realize it but she was already manipulating him, just as she should be. "How 'bout Padfoot?" he ventured.

Hermione looked shocked, "No I couldn't, that Harry's special name for you," she insisted even though she distantly recalled calling him just that when discussing how he was doing with Harry at Hogwarts. It'd been necessary though, they couldn't very well call him Sirius when there were Umbridge spies all around. She also wasn't ready to call him something so… _intimate_ yet.

Then she had a thought, "What's your middle name?"

He suddenly looked panicked, "You don't want to know luv, trust me."

A sudden mischievious look entered Hermione's eyes and suddenly said without thinking she said, "I bet that I could get your grandmum to tell me," she teased.

"My… Hermione have you been talking to the portraits?"

Hermione looked a little guilty, "Just Irma actually, she was a schoolmate of one of my relatives," she answered elusively.

Irma suddenly whispered, "It's Orion dear." Sirius gave the portrait of his grandmum a pointed look.

"Orion? Well that's nothing to be ashamed of. Honestly what could be wrong with that name?" Hermione blinked as she remembered something from her reading, "Oh, I could see how that Greek fellow getting killed by a woman for chasing a bunch of girls might be embarrassing."

Sirius looked uncomfortable. "Well, that and it was my father's name, it'd feel funny being addressed that way. Why not just call me Sirius like you did not even yesterday?"

Had she? Oh bullocks did he like her? "Well…"

Ginny suddenly appeared at the door. "Come on Hermione we're supposed to be going! Sirius was supposed to come get…" Ginny stared between the two, Sirius looking suddenly embarrassed and Hermione looking like she'd been caught cheating on a test.

"We got carried away by conversation, sorry," he said to Ginny.

Ginny left as soon as she was sure that Hermione was going to follow, but Hermione paused at the door on the way out and _really_ looked at him. He certainly didn't look like the haggard man he'd been when she first met him. Irma was right; he _was_ a good catch. He was gazing at the family tree, so he hadn't seen her staring. She left, wondering for the first time if it would really be so horrible to be married to the man. In her mind she tried out the name, 'Lady Hermione Jayne Corvuson Black.'

* * *

**Author's Note:** I've been doing my best to move the plot along nicely enough but I'm getting into rough territory of giving too much away information, however Hermione needs to know enough to make a real difference and she can't do that with corrupted information from manipulative government officials. Her grandfather knows all of this because he's from a powerful line and it wouldn't do to leave future generation ignorant of the games going on or they will become pawns in them.

'Scroll-pourer,' was basically the pureblood equivalent of the muggle phrase, 'bookworm.' It was once an accurate description of a person that studied all day, every day. Now, it was meant to be a derogatory term to label those who don't often participate in pureblood society because they'd rather isolate themselves with a good book.


	4. Chapter 4: Tense

**Chapter 4: Tense**

When she gathered into the foyer with the rest of the Weasleys and Harry, Remus came in the front door and told everyone that Mundugus would be a while so everyone dispersed for lunch.

Hermione made a detour to the entrance of the Library and studied the entrance. There were cobwebs and dust all over the archway and the door, especially since they hadn't cleaned it before the term began at Sirius' insistence. Determining that since she hadn't received a notice from the Ministry about underage magic, she figured that she could indeed use magic while at 12 Grimauld Place and she pulled out her wand and cleared all of the dust and cobwebs away with her magic. There were ancient runes inscribed all along the archway and Hermione found herself marveling it. She was greatly impressed with not only the workmanship but the complex organization of them all, incorporating Arithmancy into the number of sections used overall so that the runes would be more effective and help the spell to last much longer.

On her way back downstairs Tonks pulled her into the parlor before she could make it to the kitchen and handed her a book. Hermione blinked in confusion and was about ask Tonks what was going on when Tonks whispered, "My mum says she can't make it here to give you personal lessons and I'm rubbish at teaching anything so she sent this book instead."

Confused, Hermione fingered the strange non-Anglo title and asked, "Why would your mum be teaching me anything?"

Tonks looked confused but answered, "She was Andromeda Black before she married my dad," as if that explained everything. Looking a bit frustrated at Hermione's continued confusion but elaborated, "Look all I know is she's obligated to teach you the Mind Arts, some family tradition."

Realization entered Hermione's eyes and she said, "Oh the contract."

Tonks herself looked confused for a moment but decided to ignore it as she said, "Dung'll be here any moment; so you'd better hurry up and grab an apple or somethin'."

"Could you thank your mum for me?" Hermione asked. Tonks nodded and said, "Have a nice time visitin' Mr. Weasley," and Hermione made a detour to the room that she was sharing with Ginny and retrieved the quilt that she had made for Kreacher on her way down. She passed by Harry and Ron and they decided to follow her into the kitchen.

In the small cupboard there appear to be various knickknacks from around the house that Sirius tried to throw out. Hermione stares for a moment at the portraits of the most recent Black families and feels amusement and concern over a younger Sirius who looks mighty unhappy next to a younger boy and a man and woman together behind them. Feeling slightly embarrassed for staring at Kreacher's belongings she quickly and lovingly deposits the quilt that she made, but before she can shut the cupboard the real Sirius is behind her asking Harry if he's seen Kreacher. Hary says that he hasn't seen Kreacher since Sirius ordered him out last night.

"He was here this morning Sirius," she said, trying to be helpful.

He glanced her way, "He's not supposed to be able to leave the residence without permission, no house elf can."

Hermione blinked and said, "A house elf serves a family Sirius, not just one person. If you gave him a loophole he could go wherever he liked. Out of all of the house elves I've ever met Kreacher seems to understand his rights best and he certainly utilizes them to the best of his abilities."

Sirius scowled and asked, "Why was he giving you a letter this morning?"

"I'm not exactly sure;" she answered, "I assume that my grandparents' owl couldn't penetrate the Fidelus and Kreacher must have decided to deliver it to me." She looked around and realized that Ron and Harry had left her alone with Sirius. Scowling slightly at them abandoning her, she then added in an upset manner, "I haven't eaten very much today; I should really get to the dining table. Good day to you Sirius."

He sighed in an exasperated manner and quietly uttered, "Good day," as she swiftly passed him on her way out. Unknown to Hermione, he asks himself in mild confusion, "Her grandparents have an owl?"

**A/N:** What do you guys think of what's going on?


	5. Chapter 5: the Plant That Didn't Look Ri

**The Messenger, Heir of the Corvusons**

**Chapter 5: **the Plant That Didn't Look Right

Hermione flipped through the Mind Arts book while she sat at the dining table; there were only a few people in there still eating, Alastor Moody being one, Professor Lupin, and the twins were among those that she noticed absentmindedly. The text in the book was almost unreadable and Hermione idly wondered if that were done on purpose in order to cause you to have to focus on the material when you read it instead of someone just breezing through it forgetting what was written. When she got past the introduction to the book she realized that this particular text was geared more towards women than men and Hermione considered that this had to do with their differing brain chemistry or simply put, men and women think differently so differing methods were easier for certain genders to perform. When she finished eating she was already a quarter of the way through the text and she continued reading and almost missed the fact that 'Dung' had finally made it to Grimmauld Place with the car.

She exchanged an awkward glance with Sirius whom appeared to be discreetly studying her on her way out. As she walked outside Hermione wondered if she would actually do it, that is essentially claim him as her fiancé and if he actually knew of it somehow. What would the engagement accomplish though; another marriage contract that was made by two friends fulfilled? It wasn't as if she didn't have any boys interested in her after all. Suddenly reminded of Kreacher, Hermione slid into the ministry car next to Ron and Harry got in immediately afterwards.

She recalled all of the political games that were mentioned in the letter from her grandparents and she knew at that moment one of the reasons why; the Blacks were major players in the political arena during the last war. When Sirius had been sent to Azkaban and declared a murderer of muggles the Wizarding World suddenly believed that the Blacks had swayed from their typical political neutral stance regarding pureblood prejudice. The status quo had suddenly left no room for purebloods sitting on the fence; it was clear that you had to either pretend to be a bigot and side with either the Death Eaters or the Ministry, or to become a family ostracized by society as blood traitors and be suddenly at risk for more than just random attacks.

The sudden void of a proper leading family that was neutral on the issue in the Wizengamot left everyone choosing sides in desperate fear. A little over half of them fled to Dumbledore's protection and a great number sided with the Death Eater families, and some brave few like the Greengrass family stuck it out as neutral purebloods. Had the war on blood not ended at that moment then practically the entire pureblood community choosing sides could have become much bloodier.

The reason that Hermione had realized was if Sirius could even be legally wed to a suitable witch from a family just as important as his without being thrown back into Azkaban, as a married woman she could give a voice to those purebloods whom didn't care for bigotry in the Wizengamot again. Harry would be currently unable to do so as he was completely unaware of his mother's heritage or the games. Harry's mother would have fulfilled the role had she not been pregnant, then sequestered in a safe house, and then finally murdered by Voldemort. That spell keeping Harry from knowing of it all of this was extremely troubling.

Those events had eerily occurred as if they'd been planned from the beginning because the one person to gain the most from this fallout had been Dumbledore, which wouldn't have happened had Sirius not been framed for murder. Sirius was loyal to Dumbledore so it didn't make sense any other way for him to be imprisoned for a crime that was never thoroughly investigated by _anyone_ then for the political clout gained. If Sirius knew this now then he was hiding the knowledge well considering that the only thing keeping him from returning to prison at the moment was Dumbledore. It was possible that if Dumbledore suddenly knew of her heritage and the contract, that Sirius would soon find death waiting for him if he was not eliminated before the war began again, as Kreacher had suggested it would.

Hermione suddenly felt very small and intimidated by Dumbledore, whom she hadn't realized was a threat to anyone before the eye-opening letter. It appeared that Hermione would have an oppressive battle to fight if she decided that yes she would marry Sirius. Her reasons for doing so couldn't merely amount to his age difference or his good looks; she would have to consider all of the problems that came with him and his immature behavior as well.

Hermione didn't just read when she held books; oftentimes she held a book aloft in order to give herself time to think. Mad-Eye emitted an amused snort when she finally turned the page after what seemed to be a fifteen minute delay. Hermione did her best to hide her embarrassment but he didn't let her off so easy. "Must be a real interestin' book Miss Granger," he said and she detected that he was teasing her and not in fact suspicious as others would believe. More than willing to debate with him on the subject she countered, "That depends on what you mean by interesting Mister Moody."

She called him Mister, rather than Professor since he had never actually been their teacher at that time and it helped her to differentiate the man from the imposter. Harry had informed her along with Ron last year of the man's true identity, Bartemus Crouch Junior. Mister Moody's false eye focused on the book's title. "It's a bit advanced for you is it not?"

"I'm sure you would have noticed had you the opportunity last year that I study a great deal Mister Moody and I have every right to prepare myself," she countered. "Besides, this is hardly advanced, just a new subject."

"Aye but it's common knowledge Miss Granger that that book you're readin' is written entirely in barely discernable Latin."

"That it is Mister Moody." The occupants of the car that weren't preoccupied with their own worries glanced curiously between her and Moody. She observed their unsurprised and uninterested expressions and briefly considered the fact that these people expected young children to learn Latin before Hogwarts, as if that were entirely normal for muggle children as well. Hermione was well aware that it indeed was not normal because the children at her school prior to attending Hogwarts hadn't known anything about Latin save the fact that it was a language choice one made when they attended secondary school if they knew of it at all, yet more proof that her parents had been raised by squibs. She returned to reading the text for the time remaining spent in the car.

London remained as huge as ever so it took about a half hour drive over the extensive kilometers of winding roads, even with Dung completely ignoring traffic signals or even traffic, for good reason too because the car seemed to magically push things out of the way and back instantly, much like Britain's Wizarding World's triple-decker bus.

When they all entered the magical hospital Hermione stuck with Ronald, Harry and Ginny. Ron wouldn't stop arguing with the annoying painted subject following them around and Harry seemed preoccupied still with something. She pondered asking him about it but had decided against it because she wasn't sure whether he wanted to tell her with Ginny present or not.

Suddenly they were spotted by none other than the first man that she'd grown an admiration for, Gilderoy Lockhart, an admiration that she _deeply_ regretted ever forming. After learning that not only was he a fraud but that he'd attacked students, specifically her friends, her opinion of the man drastically changed, and listening to him blather on about nonsense was almost nauseating. She distracted herself by gazing at her surroundings, noting the architecture, layout, and people. She noticed the nurse that had let them into the ward delivering Christmas presents to the patients.

Endeavoring to focus on _anything_ but Lockhart she noticed something she wouldn't have otherwise caught; the plant that didn't look _right_. Upon seeing Neville she knew that he'd know which one it was. She discreetly caught his attention and motioned him over but Neville's, 'Gran,' as he called her took charge of the conversation. As they were about to leave Hermione made one last effort. "Excuse me Neville, but I was wondering if you know what that plant over there is? I know that I recognize it but I can't think of what it is."

Neville glanced in the area that she'd indicated. His Gran made some more conversation with Harry, Ginny, and Ron as Neville's visage went from analyzing to horror. "Hermione that plant; it's Devil's Snare." Startled, the others looked over at the seemingly innocent plant and then watched as a very upset Augusta Longbottom tore a new one at the nurse about keeping the patients safe; after all she had a vested interest in the safety of the patients.

The unfortunate nurse acted immediately and reported the plant to the aurors via the ward's fireplace floo. They came through and confiscated the plant but one of them was nearly strangled into unconsciousness by the sunlight shy plant. If the nurse hadn't been notified then the patient may have died and she may have been fired from her job. Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Ron quickly said goodbye to Neville and slipped out of the ward before the aurors could recognize Harry.

**Author's Note: **The disclaimer is in the beginning of the story and on the summary. If I've made any mistakes someone please tell me. Oh and I didn't mention St. Mungo's specifically because it didn't flow with the chapter. I've mentioned a character in Hermione's thoughts this chapter that she will meet when she's in the past; believe me after I did the math I was surprised that the person was going to be there myself. Fortunately it's helped me round out some of the cast that will be Hermione's schoolmates because I'm not putting her in the Marauders' year remember? Anyway, I'm most grateful for the alerts that I've been getting for this story but I really would enjoy some more reviews. Would you please write at least one for my story? -_jw`chan_ ^-^


	6. Chapter 6: Preparing to What?

**Author's Note:** For the readers who are confused, 'Dora Tonks _doesn't_ know about Hermione's ancestry but her mom, Andromeda Tonks née **Black**, asked her to give Hermione the book so she did. As for the conclusion that only those that I mentioned were 'in the know' about Hermione, well Hermione doesn't know who they are but there will be more. As it stands, her real name will be known to everyone who will care quite soon so I can't draw out her stay in the present much longer.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter universe or the Stargate one either. They're owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and by SyFy, previously SciFi, and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer and some other parties, none of which is me. I don't make a profit from posting this story.

**Chapter 6: Preparing To What?**

It seemed to be a very long Christmas Holiday, Kreacher disappearing from the others' views for over a week and she'd finished the Occlumency book so he appeared to her often with items and facts that he thought it important that she know of, even telling her things that she was sure he'd never let anyone else know of like Andromeda Black having been cast out of the secondary Black family by her father, Cygnus, when it was discovered that she not only married an outsider but was pregnant and refusing to abort the baby.

Apparently Ted Tonks had thought that grandchildren would soften her father's resolve against outsider blood and had convinced his Andy to visit them. She'd been attacked by her father only for her mother Druella to interfere on her behalf. Unborn Nymphadora had only barely survived the encounter. Walburga had never learned of her youngest brother's behavior during that incident but Alphard had, increasing tensions between them. Ironically Cygnus had died defending Andromeda and a six-year-old Nymphadora from Death Eaters. It was tragic stories like these that she learned from both Kreacher and the portrait in the parlor that she often visited to gain more insight into the Black Family's near downfall.

So as she was packing her things to return to Hogwarts she was a little bewildered when Kreacher began sneaking in bits of paperwork like her birth certificate, her school records, even from her muggle schools, and her medical records as well. "Kreacher," she began hesitantly, "Is there some reason that I may need these records for Hogwarts? I was under the impression that the Professors and nurse Pomfrey were already aware of these."

He cringed under her steadfast gaze and told her, "Yous _will_ be needing them for Hogwarts but not the Hogwarts of nows." At her confused gaze he continued before she could disagree with him. "Yous will be needing them for when you go to the Hogwarts of Days Gone By."

"Days gone… Kreacher, that's not possible! People can't time travel more than three hours back at a time! The Department of Mysteries has gone to a lot of trouble discovering just that!"

Kreacher sounds as if he's wheezing but is in fact laughing. "Mistress doubts Kreacher's knowledge? Wizards know very well that time travel by other means is possible. Hourglasses and chains aren't needed; Kreacher is a Time Guardian."

Hermione's jaw drops and she remains dumbfounded for a few seconds as Kreacher stuffs more paperwork betwixt her clothing and belongings in her school trunk. "There are… other forms of time travel?"

"Yes! Kreacher knows of several muggle ways to time travel as well. But theres is only three ways of magical time travel."

"Okay… let's set that argument aside for a moment Kreacher. _Why_ am I being sent to the past?"

Kreacher pauses in his packing and questions her, "Yous wants to fulfill the marriage contract, yes?"

"I… I really don't know right now what I want to do about that. What purpose would going through with it really serve?"

"Yous would be a beacon of hope to those who needs it, and yous would be saving Kreacher's life. Elves' contracts have very few stipulations but theys are very _strict_ ones. Kreacher knows that if yous stay now then there would be a Wizarding World without hope. Kreacher sees the death of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. The Blacks must survive as more than Forgotten Blood if wizards are to survives the next century. Withouts wizards the elves will become extinct and then Terra is doomed to being barely protected from snake peoples and dark ascendeds by muggles. Kreacher doesn't like that thin thread of existence!"

Eyes wide from shock, Hermione asks, "Snake people; dark what?"

Kreacher resumes packing and says, "It does not matter now. Like Kreacher says, wizards not numerous enough at that point to matter."

"Then I trust that you'll tell me well before it _will_ matter. Are we leaving soon Kreacher?" she asks.

"Yes, that whys Kreacher is ins a hurry," he answered. Then he handed her a small box tied with a ribbon and said, "Yous will be needing this. Puts it on now please," as he continued to pack the remainder of her things including the dental hygiene implements that her parents gave her.

She unties the ribbon and pulls open the box and finds within it a long bronze chain with an obsidian raven in flight, with a golden beak and sapphire eyes. "Kreacher what is this?"

"Is yous inheritance mistress. Please put its on."

Hermione sighs in frustration, while carefully pulling the necklace strategically around her hair, at Kreacher's seemingly non-answer and asks, "Will I be able to say goodbye to Harry and Ronald?"

"No, no time left," he said hurriedly. Then he placatingly added, "Theys will exist in yous future but theys will never have known you as theys schoolmate."

"Alright Kreacher; I'm ready." When she stepped through the magical vortex, she felt her body grow smaller. When she came through the other side she fell down the stairs for a whole story and when she sat up, completely unharmed due to residual protection magic from Kreacher, she rose to her feet and dusted off her now gangly legs with her gangly arms. Her smaller two front teeth that she'd had reduced in size by Madame Pomfrey remained small in proportion to her other teeth, thank goodness.

Having most likely heard the crash, a glowering Lady Walburga Black rounded the corner from the parlor and sized her up. Before she could say anything however, a younger Kreacher appeared before them and addressed Lady Black, "Kreacher has _very_ important news for Mistress."

**AN-2:** Kudos if you caught the impending Stargate doomsday joke. I may choose to do a more defined crossover with the Stargate-verse in this story's sequel. It'd be fun; I'm already thinking of some villainous plots involving items infused with magic. Anyway if I do that it's not going to be through a silly stargate accident; those are way overdone. It'll be done through the proper channels involving the respective governments that are a part of the International Oversight Advisory (IOA) and perhaps through an improved version of the International Confederation of Wizards (ICW).


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